Page 11 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

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jeanie

Dealing Pussy

When I return to my hotel room, Bobo the sex doll sits in a bathrobe on one side of a freshly made bed, looking like he should be enjoying an after-sex smoke.

He’s giving me his come-hither look, so I oblige and throw myself on the mattress face-first and spread-eagle at his feet. Meanwhile, my headache has returned with a force I’m certain will make my skull explode.

This divorce-cation isn’t going as I planned.

Sophia’s probably already told Roman about my “boyfriend.” What will he say, especially after I begged him to come back only a few hours ago? I tug my knees to my chest, curling into a ball.

The adjoining room door opens and I sit up, ready to send away housekeeping, but my mom, Betty, steps through.

Where did she come from? My lips tighten as Mom glides across the room like a beach goddess in a flowing caftan.

“Oh, good, you’re finally awake,” she says and plucks the bejeweled sunglasses from my head and slides them on her face like they’re hers. I should have recognized her over-the-top Florida glam style.

I roll back onto the bed and groan.

“Jeanie, you okay?” she asks but keeps her distance. Even when I was young and at home sick from school, she would set tissues and meds inside my bedroom door and run in the other direction like I was patient zero.

“I’m in hell,” I scream into the comforter.

“As if God would let me into heaven.” Mom’s evil laugh signals she’s delighted by the thought.

Clearly in a good mood that can’t be touched by my drama, Mom dances the rumba. I realize why when a shirtless twenty-something man appears from her room. He joins her dance as they sing a rap song like it’s smooth jazz.

“For the love of God.” I peer through splayed fingers at the two as they dirty dance.

“Edwin, darling, please fly that thing outside. It’s killing my buzz.” A tiny drone circles Mom’s head and she swats at it.

“Maybe we can use it later? I’m thinking aerial sex videos, Betty,” he says, cooing her name.

They cuddle up, giggling at the devious plan.

“Please stop.” I want to scratch out my eyes.

“Now you’re showing off, Captain.” Mom runs a teasing finger across his chest. When she tugs him closer by the loops of his pants, Edwin gives her a sensual kiss.

I clear my throat. When their making out continues, I cough, prepared to hack up a lung.

“Some people can’t take the heat, mi amor,” Mom says and gives me a dirty look.

Still, he kisses her neck one last time before returning to their adjoining room with his toy.

“Bye, Jeanie,” he says as the door closes, even though I can’t remember meeting him.

“I’m surprised it took this long to get to sex tapes. How long have you been dating, thirty-six hours?” I ask, knowing she never keeps anyone around for more than a few days.

“He’s got serious grandma issues. He’s perfect for me.” She sips a drink with a pineapple slice balanced on the rim.

“Doesn’t he have a wife to bury?” I give up on sleep and edge upright.

The last few days are slowly coming into focus.

Only yesterday morning in Chicago, Mom was browsing the obituaries and searching for new man meat. Edwin made the cut when his ninety-nine-year-old wife passed. Mom reached out, offering a shoulder to cry on, and the rest is recent history.